Page 38 of False Confidence

“I call it Jazz Lite,” Jasmine said with a bitter laugh. “It’s how I dress when I need to see my parents, so they can’t fuck with my confidence by trashing the clothes that actually feel like me.”

Well, that was devastating. And not exactly the subject change he was hoping for. Liam pulled his hand away from Jasmine’s so he could turn into the restaurant parking lot, fighting to keep his face neutral. Jasmine was the last person he expected to struggle with shit like this. She always seemed so sure of herself. The thought of anyone making her feel otherwise…

“What?” she asked. Great. Not only was he doing a terrible job of keeping her calm, he apparently couldn’t keep his confusion off his face, either.

“I’m just surprised. You’re like the most self-assured person I know. I can’t imagine anything shaking your sense of self.”

“A little false confidence goes a long way,” she replied with a wry smile. “And I have a lot of false confidence. Unearned, I might add. Fake it till you make it, right?”

“I believe we have a rule about that,” he pointed out, because if he didn’t make a joke about it, he was going to turn his Volvo around and head right back to Seattle. How the hell was he supposed to sit through dinner with the people who had made her feel like this? Meeting Maggie’s parents had been bad enough.

Jasmine rolled her eyes at the reminder, but she seemed a little brighter, at least. It was something. He released his seatbelt, and brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her palm. “It’s just dinner, and I’ll be right here the whole time. You’ve got this.”

She sucked in a heavy breath. “Yeah. It’s just a couple of hours. We can manage that.”

“Exactly. Rule number three: we’re in this together.”

A soft smile fell over Jasmine’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a cheeky grin. “Did you get that one from a Hallmark card?”

She scrambled from the car before he could answer. He caught her as she rounded the car and swatted her lightly on the ass. “Brat,” he murmured in her ear, before kissing her on the cheek and pulling her into his side, ready to face her parents.

“Ifinished in the top ten of my half marathon last week.” Jasmine’s little sister, Rose, beamed proudly at her parents.

“Where in the top ten?”

Rose’s smile slipped a little at her dad’s unimpressed question. “Eighth. But I beat my best time by fifty-eight seconds, so I know I can do better next time.”

Liam felt Jasmine tense beside him as her parents turned away from her sister. The light in Rose’s hazel eyes dimmed. She took a deep breath before setting her jaw and looking up like nothing had happened.

Rose, twenty-five, was the carbon copy of their mom—honey blond and lithe, with sharp hazel eyes, and a heart-shaped face. Xander was thirty-six and favored their dad, with darker hair, blue-grey eyes, a square jaw, and a stocky build. Jasmine fell somewhere in the middle, but the thing that struck Liam most about the Cannon siblings was how tense they all were.

“Your turn, Xan,” Jasmine’s mom said, clasping her hands on the table in front of her. Jesus. They hadn’t even had their entrees yet.

Xander cleared his throat, and Liam wondered if his parents clocked his knee bouncing below the table. “I closed the deal with that East Coast hotel chain I was telling you about. Eight figures.”

“Excellent work as always,” their dad said, lifting his glass in cheers. Liam wasn’t entirely sure what Jasmine’s dad’s company did, but it had something to do with lumber. Mr. Cannon turned to his middle daughter and sighed. “Anything to share this month, Jazz?”

“Hmm. I did get a parking spot in front of the bank for the first time ever last week, so that was pretty cool.”

“On Fifth Avenue?” Liam asked, and she nodded, her eyes twinkling. “Damn. That’s very impressive,” he told her family, who were frowning at them.

“Isn’t that street a no-parking zone?” Xander asked.

“Well, I didn’t get a ticket, so I guess that’s two achievements.” Her family didn’t look impressed. “What about you, baby?”

Ah. His turn. He was prepared for this. “I hit my reading goal for the year last week—eighty books.”

“But it’s only July,” Rose protested. “If you already hit your goal, why not make it a bigger goal?”

“I read and set the goal for fun. It’s not that serious.” Liam shrugged, doing nothing to clear up the confusion on Rose’s face.

“But the point of goals is to push yourself to do better. If you already hit the goal, you can do better than that.”

Jasmine sighed. “God, Rosie, pull your stethoscope out of your a?—”

“Anyway,” Liam interrupted, cutting Jasmine off while fighting the laugh that was bubbling up. “I up my goal every year. Just for fun.”

“Reading is a great hobby,” Jazz’s mom said after glaring at her middle child.

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